quiet, he thinks
by NightmaresInChibi
Summary: Boss Ladd visits, sometimes. Graham isn't quite sure why, but it doesn't matter. It's sweet of him. At least, Graham thinks it is. It amuses him, thinking that, or something similar. It hurts his head to think about it too long, so he doesn't.


It's quiet now.

Well, it could be.

Graham likes it, mostly, getting rid of the blood stains was a little too much effort, but it's cool, over now. And now it's just him, and he's not really lonely it's better like this. He's not stupid enough to believe his is the kind of situation he should be feeling loss in, the other;s didn't like him anyway. There. Better.

Graham thought, for a while, that maybe he'd miss having people to talk to every day, but it didn't take long to realise his own company - hell, maybe even the empty warehouse's company - was far more substantial than that of the corpses he'd dumped in the river.

So, no, it's not really quiet, not when Graham's talking, always, constantly, no interruptions, and that's great, he loves it. It's easier like this. People like them aren't worth it.

Boss Ladd visits, sometimes. Graham isn't quite sure why - to check up on him? make sure he hasn't let anyone else kill him? - whatever, it doesn't matter. It's kind of sweet of him. At least, Graham thinks it is. It amuses him, thinking that, or something similar. It hurts his head to think about it too long, so he doesn't.

It's a Wednesday.

Graham likes Wednesdays, if only because he's noticed that it's the day Ladd's most likely to visit on. A nice little break from talking to himself. He's slowly learning to be patient about this, not immediately assuming Ladd's forgotten about him when he's not there in the mess of machinery the moment Graham wakes up. And so, even though it's a Wednesday and the stolen pocket watch says it's almost midday, Graham's doing his best not to be bothered, really, Boss Ladd still has time to show up before Graham declares him MIA.

Alright, so he's still a little paranoid. Still, Graham likes to think he's getting better about that sort of thing.

It's half past twelve, and Graham's getting scared.

Such a sad story it would be if Boss Ladd didn't show, what if something's happened, hell, anything could have happened between the previous week and now. No, no, no, no, no, not possible. Ladd's too strong to be hurt, at least, that's what Graham tells himself.

So has Ladd forgotten him?

Graham slowly sinks in to a pathetic heap on the dusty floor, wrapping his arms over his head to shield his eyes from the badly filtered light, and it's an effort just to breathe, can't think, panic.

"It's okay, okay," Graham gasps, but it isn't, it can't be. "Such a sad story-"

He almost doesn't notice the scraping sound of rusted metal on not-as-rusted metal, but he does hear the foot steps echoing through the high ceilinged room. Graham looks up - and almost feels like smashing his head against the wall for worrying so needlessly - in time to catch Boss Ladd shoving over one of the numerous car engines Graham's left lying around.

"How the hell do you find anything in here?" Ladd's tone almost sounds accusatory, but Graham doesn't mind.

"I don't know," Graham offers an awkward smile and a shrug, "an incomprehensible story, I'm sure. But I get by, kinda. Is it okay?" Funny, threatened with doesn't bother him, but now there's a chance Boss Ladd's pissed at him, he's getting all paranoid again. Happy and yet also sad. A bittersweet story at its finest.

"Nah, it's cool. I like it," Ladd smirks over at Graham, and Graham shivers with the fear and twisted excitement the look brings him. Stupid, but oh well. Still, Graham's left a little quiet, a little uncertain of what to say next. A strange, foreign feeling, and one Ladd's been making Graham feel far too often since his dramatic and violent crash in to Graham's life.

"Cool," Graham says, "I'm glad." He is. He can't stand the idea of Ladd not being okay with it - him, whatever. And damn, he's getting that horrible feeling of panic again, no - damn! - now is not a good time -

"Relax," Ladd practically croons, wrapping his fingers around Graham's throat and stroking it in an oddly sooting manner. "No need to go all freaked out on me."

Graham manages a slight nod and a small smile. At least, he thinks it's a smile, he sure as hell hopes it is. "I'm not freaking out," he mutters, bringing his own hand up to rest it on Ladd's much bigger one. "You cannot prove such a thing."

Ladd laughs at that, and Graham's pretty sure he likes that sound. Still not quite sure if Ladd laughing like that is a good thing or a bad thing, but Graham likes it. Yeah, it's a good thing, even if Ladd's fingers have tightened slightly, and Graham can feel that fear/excitement thing again, and that's always a nice feeling.

He thinks. Maybe.

Boss Ladd really is very good at making Graham question his certainty. Only person who ever has, Graham thinks. But that's cool, Graham is still okay with that. And it's not like Ladd's going to kill him.

Yet.

"You say some cute things," Ladd says, and Graham wonders how long he's been zoning out. "I still like you. I don't think I'm going to be killing you in a hurry."

Thank god, Graham thinks, but he doesn't feel up to talking right now, strangely enough. Talking just seems like too much effort, and far too risky.

"I'd like it if you answered me when I talk to you," Ladd's fingers are actually squeezing hard now, and, jesus, there goes Graham's plan of staying quiet, shit, that's actually starting to hurt, and he can't breath, just like when he panics.

"Ladd," Graham rasps, and there's barely enough oxygen getting to his head for that even, and there's these blackened, reddish blotches masking his vision, like dried blood, and there's no way that's indicating survival.

And then Ladd's fingers are gone, and Graham's falling in to an inelegant pile, gasping for oxygen out of the stale air, even if that just makes his lungs hurt even more. Boss Ladd's looking at him with what might be concern, but then the expression cracks in to a grin, and the illusion's gone.

"You still don't care if I kill you?" Ladd asks, tilting his head slightly. "You looked pretty scared just then. Did you change your mind or something?"

"Nah," Graham keeps his voice soft, his vocal chords aren't feeling up to too much usage right now. "Just - just surprised is all. Didn't expect you to kill me today."

"Come on now," Ladd keeps smiling, and Graham's pretty sure he should hate it after what just happened. Should, but doesn't. "What fun would it be if you saw it coming?"

True enough, but not at all comforting.

"Still, can we maybe stop talking about killing me? Just for today," Graham thinks he's asking, but he really hopes there aren't multiple answers. He'd really like it if Ladd just said "yes". Then again, that doesn't mean that Graham expects him to agree. He's never expected that, not from Boss Ladd.

"Sure," Ladd says, shrugs, "it can wait."

"Cool," Graham let's out a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding. It makes his lungs hurt. "Thanks."

"Anything you want me to say instead?" Ladd asks, grinning again, and Graham's a little surprised that he still gets the fear/excitement feeling, even with his throat all bruised and his lungs aching.

"Whatever, it doesn't matter," Graham says after a slight pause. "Hell, you can talk about killing other people if that get's you off. Surprise me."

After all, without the tedium of knowing what comes next, life's always more exciting.


End file.
